Prime Minister Narasimha Rao: A faithful but unambitious Congressman

For long a faithful but unambitious partyman, the prime minister has been honing his intellectual skills for the hour of destiny.

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W.P.S Sidhu

July 15, 1991

ISSUE DATE: July 15, 1991

UPDATED: September 10, 2013 18:32 IST

P.V. Narasimha Rao

For the man standing on the lawns of the colonial bungalow on Motilal Nehru Marg in New Delhi, acknowledging greetings on becoming prime minister, it is a political resurrection. Just when he had resigned himself to a period of quiet retirement filled with hours of listening to classical Indian music and working on his computer, dramatic events catapulted him out of oblivion onto centrestage.

Now, dressed in shining white shoes, a starched white dhoti and silk kurta with a silk shawl draped around his shoulders, and surrounded by a pair of burly SPG men, Pamulaparti Venkata Narasimha Rao, 70, looks dazed as he receives hordes of party workers and well-wishers. He watches the visitors queue up before him for a darshan, just as he used to wait on the members of the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty.

Even his family, which was almost indifferent to his political success, has been caught up in the excitement. All his three sons and three of his five daughters rushed to Delhi from Hyderabad to share their father's unexpected moment of glory. Says Prabhakar Rao, the youngest son and managing director of Sinclair Television: "The family feels great. Although we have seen him in power since 1962, this is something special."

Not that the family expects to gain favours from their father's new position. In the past 30-odd years they have been treated as ordinary citizens despite Rao holding high offices. Says Ranga Rao, the eldest son who was recently elected MLA from Hanamkonda in Andhra Pradesh: "My father has never helped to advance my career. If he had, I would not have had to wait 30 years to become an MLA."

Rao's own career, however, moved much faster. He jumped into the political arena in 1938 at the early age of 17, joining the protest against the Nizam of Hyderabad's ban on singing Vande Mataram. And some years later, he participated in the Quit India movement.

After Independence, he was elected member of the Andhra Pradesh Legislative Assembly in 1957, became a minister, and finally the chief minister in 1971. Rao surrendered a staggering 1,200 acres of land in Vangara village in Karimnagar district when he brought in the land ceiling law to expedite land reforms in the state during his chief ministership. All that his family retained was 120 acres which is now occupied by the rural poor with the backing of the Naxalite People's War Group. "Rao got the village everything, including electricity," says sarpanch Pingali Jayapal Reddy.

If Rao has not got credit wherever it was due, he has also escaped flak for some of his failures and, more importantly, evaded any scent of a scam.

His tenure as chief minister, however, lasted a mere two years when Mrs Gandhi was forced to dismiss Rao's government and impose President's rule. Despite this setback, Rao was made general secretary of the All India Congress Committee in 1974. After 20 years in state politics, Rao was elected to the Lok Sabha from the Hanamkonda constituency.

By this time, he had already impressed Mrs Gandhi with his intellectual prowess. Recalls a former bureaucrat: "He would come up with pros and cons on every issue and this enabled Indira Gandhi to make decisions." Adds former cabinet colleague Pranab Mukherjee: "Rao and Venkataraman were considered the two wise men of Indira Gandhi." Simultaneously, he remained fanatically loyal to her and never once attempted to challenge her decisions. His subservience paid off when in 1979 she first asked him to draw up the party's manifesto - a task he has been doing ever since - and appointed him foreign minister in 1980.

This was the big break. With his penchant for picking up languages, Rao fitted snugly into the high-flying world of international diplomacy despite being a teetotaller and a vegetarian. A senior diplomat who worked with him considers Rao as the "real spirit of the Non-Aligned Movement, ensuring peaceful co-existence despite differences".

If Rao did not get credit where it was due, he also escaped flak for his failures. For instance, today no one seems to remember that in the turbulent days after Operation Bluestar leading to the assassination of Indira Gandhi, and the anti-Sikh riots in 1984, the critical portfolio of home was being handled by Rao.

The National Policy on Education (NPE) 1986 was singlehandedly formulated by Rao as human resources development minister on his newly-acquired word-processor in a record six months. But Rao was unable to push for the required funds to implement the ambitious NPE, including the Navodaya schools. Indeed, most bureaucrats who have interacted with Rao lament his trait of procrastinating decisions. Former cabinet secretary B.G. Deshmukh, however, defends Rao's style of functioning. Says he: "Rao gives the impression of not being decisive because he looks at all aspects of a problem."

Other bureaucrats describe Rao as a great negotiator and persuader. Says Anand Sarup, former education secretary: "His trouble-shooting would be through a process of interaction, conciliation and persuasion." Consequently, Rao is seen as a dove. "He is not a hardliner but he did not mind using force as a last resort."

Former bureaucrats reveal that Rao was against sending the Indian Army into Sri Lanka, but once the forces were committed, he was against its withdrawal till the job was completed. The cautious Rao coasted clear of any confrontation. Says former foreign secretary S.K. Singh: "He is truly ajatashatru - one who does not have any enemies."

During his long tenure in high office, Rao has deftly evaded any scent of a scam. The only exception being his link with the controversial godman Chandra Swami. Their association dates back to the Hyderabad days. Nonetheless, Rao once confided to a bureaucrat: "He (Chandra Swami) may have some spiritual powers but I don't think he is quite as much as he is made out to be."

Despite this scepticism, Rao was not able to sever links and has even been mentioned in the CBI's FIR in the St Kitts case relating to the alleged foreign account held by former prime minister V.P. Singh's son Ajeya Singh. Today, Rao's protagonists are desperate to play down the Chandra Swami connection. "Arey bhai, as a minister he has to meet everyone. How can he say no?" asks Ram Khandekar, his personal secretary of six years.

While Rao uses a couple of computers - a Sinclair PC, presented by his youngest son, and a Microsense - for preparing all his reports, manifestos and letters, Khandekar continues to depend on the vintage typewriter. In fact, when Rajiv Gandhi launched the computer era in 1985, Rao was one of the first converts to the new technology. Today, he is so adept with the machines that along with the 10 Indian and four foreign languages, Rao has also taught himself some computer languages and is now able to programme them. And any spare time finds Rao hunched over the computer.

For a man so deeply involved in politics and self-development, there was hardly any time for the family. And when his wife, Satyamma, whom he married at the early age of nine years, died in 1970, he completely immersed himself in politics. A common complaint of all his eight children is that while he is very affectionate, he spent very little time with them. Says son Rajeshwar Rao:' 'He is not like a modern father who would have a limited family and pay attention to his children." Once, after he was appointed Union home minister in 1984, a reporter noted: "Your private life will be completely disrupted." Rao mused: "I don't have much of a private life."

In fact, it took a serious medical crisis in the family for Rao to show his deep love for the family. When his eldest son Ranga Rao had to undergo a heart bypass operation in June 1990, Narasimha Rao who was on a trip to the US, rushed to Hyderabad and stayed for 24 days, visiting his son in the hospital. Recalls Ranga Rao: "This was his longest stay in Hyderabad in the last 20 years." Ironically, just a month later Narasimha Rao himself had to undergo a coronary bypass as his veins had shrunk by more than 70 per cent due to diabetes.

Rao's diabetic condition dates back 20 years and the blood sugar level had been kept in control with a regulated diet and doses of Dianol tablets. The condition was not serious enough to warrant use of insulin injections. Says a family member: "Had the shrinkage been up to 50 per cent, he could have been treated with angioplasty. But because of the severe condition, he had to undergo a coronary bypass." Rao, who was in the US, was operated at St Lukes Hospital in Houston by the eminent Dr Denton Cooley, and underwent a four-valve bypass.

Since the operation, Rao's life-style has also undergone a change. No longer does he play tennis or badminton. His food, always simple and frugal, has become even more bland and sweets are totally off the menu. By way of exercise he now goes for a very brisk 6 km walk every morning. Getting up at 5.00 a.m. he drives down to Rashtrapati Bhavan.

Donning headphones and listening to his favourite Hindustani classical ragas - Bhairavi, Malkauns and Kalyani - on his Sony Discman, he walks the lawns for about an hour. He returns and starts work after a brief rest. Lunch is always at home and after a siesta in the afternoon he is back in action. The day, during which he spends at least three hours in front of his computer, finally ends at 1.00 p.m. What will be watched keenly is whether he will prove decisive enough as prime minister, now that the buck stops with him.